Its Just ME

Chapter 02

LIVIANA’S POV

By the time I got home — well, to my little shoebox apartment — Josh was already halfway through the meal I’d brought. I watched him eat with the quiet hunger of someone who hasn’t eaten herself, but finds comfort in watching another be fed.

“Slow down, bunny,” I said softly, though I couldn’t bring myself to scold him. It’s hard to tell a hungry child not to devour what little he gets.

I didn’t eat. Instead, I let him finish, cleaned up, and went for a shower.

When I came out, towel wrapped around my head, he was asleep.

I smiled a little. He looked so peaceful.

Careful not to wake him, I slipped into bed beside him, brushing the soft curls away from his face. He twitched slightly in his sleep and murmured something incoherent, like he always does.

God, he’s so beautiful when he sleeps.

I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you so much, dear,” I whispered. “I promise I’ll save you. You’ll get that operation. I’ll find a way. I don’t care how, but I will.”

And for the first time in a long time, I felt the sting of desperation clawing at my chest. I hated that feeling.

I hated needing help.

But I had to call her.

Aurora.

Her words from our graduation echoed in my head, like a voicemail I never deleted: “Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. This is my card. Just know that I freaking love you, bitch.”

She always had a way of making things sound less heavy than they were.

It had been a year since I last heard from her. She’d moved to Italy, got a nice job—of course she did. Her family was rich. People like Aurora always land on their feet. People like me… we’re just trying to survive the fall.

I didn’t want to call. I didn’t want to be a burden. I hated the thought of anyone pitying me. But maybe… just maybe… this time I couldn’t do it on my own.

I laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling, listening to Josh’s soft breathing.

Our lives had been hell.

Josh had been suffering for so long. And me? I’d been holding us together with scraps—barely. My thoughts drifted back to the man who made our lives this way.

My father.

That word used to mean safety. Now it meant monster.

A gambler, a drunk, a sadist who came home every night to take what little money we had, and when there wasn’t any left, he’d take it out on us.

He was insane. Inhumane.

And my mother—his cowardly shadow—she ran when it got too much, leaving nothing but a damn letter. A piece of paper instead of a goodbye.

I laughed bitterly in the dark. “Blessed,” I muttered to myself. “Blessed with a godforsaken father.”

I wanted to hate her too.

And I did.

Yet, some nights, I just missed her.

Even though he’s rotting in a cell now, every night I still wake up scared. Every creak in this apartment sounds like his boots on the floor. Every shadow reminds me of his hands.

Sometimes, I think about giving up.

But then I look at Josh.

My little sun. My only hope.